Upon The Bleak Streets Of Mobius
by DIsForDiabeetus
Summary: As the contrasting yet equally dramatic lives of three hedgehogs begin to intertwine, a tragic tale of deception and regret unfolds from the twisted luck of being at the wrong place at the wrong time.


This story was *cough* 'totally meant for the Sonic universe', and wasn't just a reskin of my English homework or anything. Anyway, now you're here, I have some things to explain. Silver is portrayed as a war veteran for some reason, perhaps serving for queen and country in the Great Chaos Emerald War of '45 or some shit. My totally well thought-out original character 'Moss Collins the Hedgehog' also makes a brief cameo, and honestly steals the spotlight entirely in my opinion.

Droplets of lifeless, nondescript drizzle ran down an equally colourless window as the whole town turned grey. The walls around him could scarcely make the claim to shield him from the sombre acts of God outside, but nothing could hope to cloak his inner turmoil. He deviated from the musty, aged glimpse to a harsh, yet true reality and fell into a cheap, spring-ridden leather armchair. An excruciating, oppressive agony damned his head. He couldn't take it. Day and night, all he felt was anger, a redundant fury seeping through his veins, begging for release. He didn't know how much longer he could feign the ruse of a normal hedgehog with normal concerns. The divorce had been a messy one, custody of his child taken, towers of papers, all meaningless in conveying where ones true affections lay. He chuckled. Funny how a mere contract could amass such power. A dull ring broke him from his bitter sanctum and he heaved himself up to answer the phone.

"Yes?"

He made no effort to mask his dejection as he spoke.

"Ah, Sonic. Just the hedgehog I've been meaning to speak to. Okay, I'll make this quick, the company's been under a lot of stress recently, and we're having to make some... set-backs."

"Set-backs?"

A rising ire became evident in his eyes.

"Look, I know you haven't been working with us for long, but everyone's under pressure here, and some people are gonna have to go.

"Vector, wait"

"Listen, Sonic, I know you're going through some rough times at the moment, and I know how it must feel, but everyone here is having to make sacrifices."

He clenched the phone with duress.

"You know how it must feel? You know how it must feel to watch any sliver of a normal life crumble away before your eyes? How it must feel to inertly watch as everyone you ever poured love and nurture into abandon you with cruel, deadpan blood? How it must feel to shy away from the inevitability of being consumed by an ever growing depression through an unavoidable cowardice?

Before he could reply, he slammed the phone over it's worn cradle, a borderline animalistic rage surging through his veins. He heard an abrupt, hasty knock. Assuming it to derive from his current predicament, he took several deep, serene breaths, but alas, it sustained. Now newly focused, he traced the sound to his door. He ran to it and opened the handle, only to see a lined face and a pair of distressed cobalt eyes.

"Oh God, Sonic, I'm so sorry!"

Tears of false empathy running down her coarse, flushed cheeks, she abruptly fell into his arms without hesitation.

"Sorry for what?"

"Didn't you just hear it? Just down the street, from your ex-wife's house? Just now. It sounded like a gunshot! I've just dialled the emergency services but I thought I should..."

He pushed her aside with a brute lack of remorse and a passionate animosity seared through his heart. He marched fervidly down the poignant, sodden slum of a street.

The fire had risen, and it was brighter than it had ever been before

He took no pleasure in doing this.

Not that he had a choice. He glanced at the .45 Colt M1911 he held loosely in his fetid, grime-ridden hand. He couldn't afford to take any chances. Not in his current predicament. How could it have come to this? From 'Silver The Hedgehog: War Hero' to 'Silver The Hedgehog: Convicted Thief.' They should have been honoured, awarded, but no, they were nothing but bygone, forgotten remnants of a year-spanning massacre.

Turned out the horrors of war were nothing compared to the horrors of the outside world.

Timidly, he opened the window with as little force as he could muster and proceeded to clamber through with the finesse of a three-legged giraffe after one too many shots of tequila. He didn't know the first thing about robbing houses, going only off cliché cat-paced, mask donning stereotypes. He surveyed the area, a constant paranoia warning him of the consequences of such a hellish deed, incarcerated or not. Taking a deep breath, he began bagging anything that looked the least bit valuable. This was wrong. This was against anything he ever believed about morality. But he just barely found the means to justify it. A man's job was to provide for his family, or at least the tidbits of a family he still had. His wife was a bigger monster that he'd initially perceived her to be, abandoning her own daughter at the time she needed her most, knowing full well the likelihood of her death was imminent. Leukaemia wasn't something that just went away. But this was his job now. Her only hope. He heard a rustle from upstairs, causing him to drop and smash a tinted glass flower pot. Before him stood a frozen, scruff-haired little hedgehog with scared, scared eyes. They stood there in awe, direct mirrors of each others petrification. His mind was racing. He couldn't think straight. In seconds, his fatally clouded mind raised his quivering hand and shot the child point-blank in the heart. His flecks of fresh, crimson blood ricocheted in all directions as his body turned limp. His eyes began to well up. What had he just done? His body remained still, flaccid, lifeless, albeit retaining his awe stricken expression. Tears of adrenaline and self-disgust ran down his cheeks and a sour taste damned his mouth. He lost control of his hands and the gun tumbled to the ground. He did the only thing that seemed sane.

He ran.

She hauled the last load of shopping from the boot of her outdated, yet homely faded garnet Fiesta. Not a single bad thought ran through her mind. Seemed everything had started to go uphill the moment she divorced that feeble excuse for a hedgehog. Dead-end job, complete and utter lack of any observable care, she don't know how she tolerated him for such a time. But it was over. This was better for him. How he could call that a viable environment for a growing young hedgehog was beyond her. She hauled her bags to the back door, only to notice from the corner of her eye, the window evidently ajar. She could've sworn she'd closed it. She entered the house more warily and called out for her son.

"Moss?"

No response.

She continued into the living room only to find him. To find him inanimate, soaking in a pool of his own blood. She fell to her knees without will, dropping her bags, all manner of crisp bags and milk cartons tumbling to the entrail stained carpet. Next to him lay a small calibre handgun, which she picked up with a singular trembling hand. At that moment she heard a raucous tremor as the door came off it's hinges. There he stood, her ex-husband, covered in beads of sweat and teeming with fury.

"Amy?"

His jaw fell open in a concoction of awe and betrayal. At that instance, she realised what this must've looked like to him. She turned to deter him as his face turned to one of pure ferocity and he pounced on to her, bringing her to the ground, attempting to wrestle the gun from her, astringent hatred burning in his eyes.

Then it happened.

His finger slipped to the trigger and her face turned cold. Blood began to leak from her chest and she fell onto her back. He gently released her debilitated body from his hands and his face wavered. The only two people he ever cared about, poured his whole life into lay dead before him.

A single tear rolled down his cheek.

He collapsed over their bodies, tears wailing onto them. The blood released from their bodies as the anger released from his. He held them tightly with his quivering arms as he heard the police sirens surround him.


End file.
